Quest for the Obsidian City
by satelliteblues
Summary: Following the defeat of Malefor, an age of peace arrives in the realms. But for Cynder, peace is far from reach, the citizens of Avalar still fearing her past self. Feeling alienated, she sets out to find the Obsidian City, where the shadow dragons have supposedly settled. Join Cynder and her friends on a journey of self discovery, friendship, and family. R&R, critique welcome!
1. A New World

Cynder's nostrils burned as she inhaled small portions of stale air, ash caking them. A weak cough escaped her throat, and she cracked her eyes open just enough to watch the cloud of soot go with it, then dissipate, like it had never been there at all. Exhaustion forced her eyes closed again. An attempt to stretch her claws only sent a wave of aching pain through her arms, but she persisted, pushing against the sore tension to regain some flexibility her limbs. Shuddering breaths rattled in and out of her dry maw.

A few moments passed and Cynder opened her eyes again to get a look at her surroundings. Unfortunately, there wasn't much to look at, save for a wide ray of sunlight beaming in just inches ahead through a crack in the wall. The light revealed nothing but a dismal floor of dusty stone, and she couldn't assume the walls would look much different. It was clear that they were still in the volcano, but it was evident from the light that they had been thrown into an outer pocket.

The silence was broken by a short coughing fit, followed by a groan. Cynder felt relief at realizing that not only was Spyro actually in the space with her, but that he had lived as well. This comforted her, despite the aches and pains, and the dusty mucus that clogged her sinuses. _Ugh, I need some water._

"Spyro?" She called out, as clearly as her dry throat would allow without sending her into another coughing frenzy.

An acknowledging grunt sounded out in reply, before an attempt at words made the purple dragon sneeze, sending a cloud of dust up from the floor into his face. If Cynder had seen it she would have laughed. Instead, she merely lifted her head from the dirty cave floor and tilted her head from side to side, giving her neck a few satisfying cracks. She pulled her limbs in and stretched them out, the soreness working it's way out to the point where she could at least stand, and so she did, slowly.

Her head throbbed, forcing her to slouch and close her eyes, though she refused to lie down again out of worry that she may not be able to stand back up. In her fifteen years of life, nothing that she had endured had ever left her this physically defeated, not even her corruption or the reversal of it. She huffed in frustration, though it came out as more of a wheeze, which turned into another cough. If only she had been as lucky as Spyro was to have sneezed, she could be a step closer to breathing properly.

It wasn't too long before her companion joined her. Though the passage of time was a bit foggy in their little cave, the light in the tunnel hadn't shifted position much. Cynder was thankful for this, as she could tell that they'd have plenty of daylight to at least make it out of the volcano. What worried her was what might lie beyond it. Before their confrontation with the Dark Master, they had traversed a land of lava lakes and scorched earth, and Cynder dreaded the thought of having to cross it again in their current state - it would be challenging enough without all of that. But something about the temperature of the air told her that wouldn't be an issue.

It was noticeably cool in the volcano, leaving Cynder to believe that Spyro's magic had deactivated it. It was, of course, the only logical response she could think of, as the volcano was in full eruption just hours before - _if that's really how long it's been_. That thought irked her, the idea of having been out for any more than a night resurfacing quite anxiously the memory of waking not even weeks earlier a whole three years older than she had been at her last conscious moment. Of course, she knew it would be unrealistic to say they could have been asleep that long and survived. The time crystal was the only factor that had contributed to them not meeting an early demise. However, she still knew that the longer they had been out, the weaker they would be for multiple reasons, and the more they would be missed and likely assumed dead once more.

"Are you hurt, Cynder?" Spyro asked, sitting beside her in a hunched position.

The black dragoness glanced at him, her weary eyes threatening to shut again. "I'm fine, Spyro. Just sore. And you?"

"I'm sore, too. And this dust is making me feel sick."

The two stayed still for a bit longer, seemingly in silent agreement that they were not prepared to move forward just yet. Cynder tended to a small scratch on her shoulder, attempting to clean the dirt out with what little saliva she could muster up, while Spyro made it a point to crack every joint he could. Cynder didn't have the energy to be annoyed at the excessive pops and cracks. She merely flicked the gravel from between her toes and waited for Spyro to speak again, which he did.

"I think I can walk for a bit, what about you?"

"Yeah, we should get going. The sooner we find a way out of this place, the better." Cynder said.

Systems of caves and tunnels made a maze out of the volcano, twists and turns and tight spaces that they had to crawl through. Spyro, having the unfortunately broader build of a short male, nearly got stuck multiple times before Cynder instructed him to bite onto her tail so that she could pull him along if need be. The task of finding the center was a grueling one, and it had to have been at least an hour before they reached the path that would lead them to it. Luckily, the tunnel was cool and spacious, a comfortable contrast to the labyrinth they had come from.

Comfortable as it may have been, it was incredibly dark, and Spyro couldn't see the dip in the ground directly in front of him that Cynder had been fortunate enough to step over. He went down, and it was only then that the tired pair realized that he was still holding onto her tail, because she went down with him. They hit the ground, Spyro tumbling over Cynder and down a steep path. By then he had released her tail, but there was no doubt he'd get an earful once they reached the bottom of wherever this path was headed. Finally, they reached a smooth floor, sliding a few feet before stopping. Pained groans escaped them both, and they stood carefully, shaking off the shock of the moments before. Cynder was about to open her mouth to bite his head off - figuratively speaking or not, she honestly hadn't decided - when a gasp from Spyro made her turn around.

Before them, the center of the volcano stretched out massively, but it was not the size that left them awestruck. Rather, it was the appearance. The floor and walls were coated in a mass of purple crystal, the lava trapped below giving the deep, dark caldera a warm, pink glow. Though the surface was mostly smooth, there were multiple areas where shards of the crystal jutted out, and around the walls wrapped a large staircase. It was beautiful, albeit confusing, and neither of them moved as they took in the sight.

"Ancestors..." Spyro muttered, his heart fluttering with excitement.

"It's beautiful." Cynder said, being the first to take a step forward onto the crystal. It was cool, the temperature of the lava unable to penetrate the surface. It must have been thick.

"Do you think we could break these?" Spyro asked, approaching a small patch that stuck out of the floor.

"I don't see what they would do for us, but it wouldn't hurt to try." Cynder tilted her head, following Spyro and giving the glowing mineral a good swipe. It didn't budge, standing rock hard against the force of her paw. Though it wasn't the strongest hit she could have given due to her weakened state, even a red or green crystal would have lost at least a few shards.

"Let's not waste our energy. We should focus on getting out of this volcano and finding some crystals that we know can help us." Spyro said, already trudging off toward the start of the winding staircase.

For once, Cynder wasn't in much of a rush to go anywhere. The sight of the caldera encrusted in such a gorgeous gem was breathtaking, perhaps moreso than the falls or valley they had explored not long ago. Naturally though, the need to find a cool river to bathe in won her over, and she soon found herself trotting off behind Spyro. Neither of them were looking forward to the long and tiring ascent to the mouth of the volcano, but only the healing magic of a red crystal could restore the rest of their energy.

By the time they were halfway up the staircase, the sun had aligned with the opening, illuminating the caldera even more. The tired dragons appreciated the warmth of the sunshine, but they knew the heat would only make the next half of their upward journey harder. Spyro decided to use what energy he had to run ahead, while Cynder slowed her pace.

"What are you doing?!" She called after him.

"We'll get to the top faster this way, come on!" Spyro shouted back.

"You're just going to wear yourself out!" But she couldn't change his mind. She huffed, fastening her pace to a steady trot. She wouldn't break into a full run, but she wanted to keep up.

After some time, Spyro had reached the top, and Cynder was still a good few rounds back on the stairs. She watched him from below, staring out at the world beyond. He was very still, and she couldn't help but wonder if that was a good or a bad sign. She wasn't going to be quicken her pace any more though; the answer would come soon enough, and soon enough it did.

"How does it look?" Cynder asked as she approached the edge of the caldera's opening, where her companion still sat.

"It's all gone, Cynder. Reduced to ashes..." he said.

"What?! N-no... That's impossible!" Cynder's heart skipped a beat and she ran up to the edge of the volcano to see...

...that everything was absolutely _beautiful. __A bit of a cruel joke, _Cynder thought, though had she not been so tired from the climb, she would have caught it. Spyro never was the jokester of the pair, but he made his attempts. Cynder pushed the thoughts away, taking in the world around them.

It was as if millions of years had passed them by in their sleep. The world had been reformed, a massive, lush forest expanding from all around the foot of the volcano, whose slope was now covered in the greenest grass and the heartiest crystals. The burned lands were a thing of the past. However, it seemed that not everything had been fixed. Below them, the ruins of the temple lay half buried in the new earth, making a scattered path up the slope. A variety of flora grew over it, vines with colorful morning glories clinging to the sides.

"Spyro, did you _do_ this?" Cynder asked.

"I couldn't have, could I? I mean, the staircase was weird, but I couldn't have regrown a whole forest." Spyro answered in disbelief.

"Well I doubt we slept long enough for it all to just grow. You pulled an entire planet together. Give yourself a little credit... Or take some credit, whatever wording feels more appropriate to you."

"It feels wrong to take credit for this. Besides I... I couldn't have done it without you." Spyro said.

"You're too humble... You saved the world, Spyro. You saved me. It's okay to acknowledge that. Just don't get a big head about it." Cynder couldn't help but feel his reluctance to accept credit though. While Spyro was right about her having a part in Malefor's downfall, she knew she was the one that gave him the power to return in the first place. As beautiful as the new world was, its inhabitants would never let her forget that fact.

"Oh, I won't." Spyro grinned. "That's Sparx's job."

Cynder let out a giggle, pulled from her thoughts, and Spyro turned to look at her. Despite the rasp in her voice, her laugh still sounded lovely. In fact, he wasn't sure if he'd ever heard her laugh like that; she had let a few chuckles slip, but something so genuine and lighthearted had never met his ears. The scales on his cheeks felt hot and he turned away, feeling as though he was forgetting something important - and, admittedly, fearing Cynder would notice the red glow he could only imagine covered his face. _What's wrong with you Spyro? _he scolded himself in his head.

"Hey, let's get going. We need to collect some crystals and heal up." Cynder nudged him with her wing.

"We should head in the direction of the city. With any luck, we should reach it by nightfall."

"What's that? Another bad joke, or wishful thinking?" Cynder said, looking out towards the sandy yellow city. She knew from the journey there that it was much farther away than it looked.

Spyro coughed, feeling the scales around his ears heat up in embarrassment. "I didn't say which nightfall." He turned his nose up and walked past her, leaving her to follow with a roll of her eyes.

\- - -

Mana flowed through their veins as they absorbed it from the green crystal, like an adrenaline rush in the form of the most powerful elemental magic known to the realms. The red crystals they had broken moments before had healed their scrapes and aching muscles, and with their mana pools full, they could continue on with their mission of finding a water source.

A calm walk through a forest without the threat of immediate danger was exactly what the pair needed. Despite the ash clogging their sinuses making them feel like they'd caught the cold of the century, they felt better than ever in spirit. They didn't even speak as they walked. Saving their voices was necessary, and the quiet filled them with tranquility. Birds chirped in the trees and bees buzzed around, collecting pollen from flowers of every color of the rainbow. The grass was soft beneath their paws, softer than the grasses of the valley, with patches of moss and clover providing extra cushioning.

Before too long, the rush of a nearby river alerted them, and they hurried towards it. They hesitated none in launching themselves into the deep water, laughing and splashing at each other as they breached the surface. The water rushed over their scales and through their snouts, cleaning away all the grimy ash and making them cough between giggles. As they played like hatchlings in the cool water, they realized that for the first time in forever, they felt like _kids. _All the years of their childhood spent fighting a war had finally paid off at the age of fifteen, and the understanding of what _peace _meant made them happier than they had ever been.

Spyro looked at Cynder, pausing his splashing to float calmly on the surface. She had never experienced childhood. She didn't grow up in a swamp with a dragonfly family, playing hide and seek and killing frogweeds. No, she had been stolen from the temple, forced to hatch early and fight battles that she had no understanding of. From birth she had been used as a war machine. Spyro could only imagine that whatever joy he felt hit her tenfold, a bittersweet thought, but one that made him realize how thankful he was that he had saved her years ago.

Cynder finally stopped splashing and swam around in a steady circle, stretching her wings out over the surface to help her float. Her scales were clean, glittering in the sun like polished obsidian, and her nose was clear. She took a deep breath of fresh air, the sweet scents of the forest hitting the roof of her mouth in a way that made it water.

"We should find something to eat." Spyro said, pulling himself up onto the grass and shaking the water off of his scales.

"We could fish." Cynder suggested, flipping over to float on her back.

"Have you ever fished?" Spyro gave her a skeptical look.

"Have you ever hunted?" She retorted.

Spyro shifted his weight, glancing away. He chewed the inside of his cheek. How many times was she going to embarrass him today? He sighed, looking back down at her. He knew she was right, and the good-humored twinkle in her eyes told him that she knew it too. She smiled at him, and he smiled back, lying down on grassy overhang that he'd used to climb up.

"Well, mighty fisher, catch me a fish." He purred in a teasing manner, eyes closing lazily.

Not even a minute later, two sets of claws slammed into the dirt in front of him. He sat up fast, eyes wide and heart racing. Cynder dropped a pretty sizeable fish at his paws and grinned, pulling herself up to sit by him. He stared at the plump fish, then at her, and back at the fish.

"_Well_, mighty purple one," she mocked with a smirk. "Cook it for me."

Spyro, admitting defeat, scaled the fish with his claws. It was messy, and quite obvious that he hadn't the slightest clue what he was doing, but he managed to get most of the scales off. He gave Cynder another nervous glance, who only sat watching with a patient smile. With a huff, he turned to the fish once more and conjured flames from his throat.

"How's that?" He asked, grinning brightly at Cynder.

"Burnt." She laughed. "But it's food." She leapt back into the water and tossed him a few more fish to prepare, and they had a meal.

Spyro lay on his back in the soft grass, full for the first time he could remember since his time at the temple. The fish wasn't amazing, mostly due to him burning it all, but it was enough to hold them off for the afternoon. Cynder lay beside him, curled up comfortably.

"So, how did you catch those fish? You told me you'd never done it before." Spyro asked, to which Cynder snorted and quickly covered her mouth with a paw to keep from laughing. "What's so funny?"

"I didn't say I'd never fished. I only asked you if you had ever hunted." She stuck her tongue out at him and he narrowed his eyes.

"Ha _ha. _You know, you might just be more of a comedic genius than Sparx." Spyro said.

"I didn't think Sparx was any kind of genius. Huh, you learn something new every day." She snickered. Spyro was unamused. "Oh come on, where's your sense of humor? You didn't leave it back at the volcano, did you?"

Spyro finally let out a laugh, flipping onto his stomach to look at her. "Alright, that was just lame."

"And yet, it made you laugh." Cynder stood and stretched her legs. "Now, do you want to make it to Warfang by nightfall or not?"

"I thought you said we wouldn't make it. Do you think we can?" He asked.

Cynder gave her wings a shrug and looked to the sky. "Maybe. We took the long way around to get to the volcano, but if we fly straight for the city then it shouldn't take too long, right?"

Spyro tucked his paws in to his chest. "Don't you think we should stay low? Just until we reach the city."

"All threats are gone. People are probably searching for us, so we should get there as quickly as possible. If we need to fight, we can." Cynder said.

"I know, I know. I'm just tired. Those gems healed us, but we just fought the biggest battle of our lives; we're in no condition to keep fighting right now. Besides, it's the middle of the afternoon, and we're better off staying on the ground so that we can find shelter if the sun sets before we make it." Spyro stood, his wings folded tightly to his sides.

Cynder hummed thoughtfully. She would admit that he had a point. Flying would only drain their energy, as would fighting. So, she set out walking, knowing that he would follow. And he did. He would follow her anywhere.


	2. A Peaceful Night

They managed to reach the city sooner than expected, the sun having just begun to set. Spyro couldn't help but feel a bit of childlike pride; he had been right from the start, even if it was only luck. The walk there had been mostly uneventful, for the forest was only inhabited by woodland critters that made it a point to stay far away from the predators that crossed through. As for the enemies they had fought under Malefor's reign, the pair could only guess that they had migrated elsewhere. The lack of hostile creatures in the forest stood out the most to the dragons, but they also noticed that crystal outcroppings became less frequent the farther they traveled from the volcano, thinning to the average amount. Perhaps the purple crystal had served some purpose after all; it seemed to be a magnet for regenerative energy. Spyro had silently concluded that he would bring this up to Volteer later - surely something new to research would excite the chatty electric guardian.

The beige dust of the heavily traveled stone path clung to the pads of their paws as they walked. It was evident from the appearance of the road that it was centuries old; the stones were worn away, and grass grew all between them. The dilapidation actually gave it an air of importance, like a commonly used trade route. This wasn't a far off guess, considering Warfang not only had a good few allies, but it was the only real city in Avalar. All other settlements were either villages or the occasional solitary home, for example: the Hermit's den in the valley. It was also the main settlement for moles, who produced the most materials in the land - specifically metals and other natural materials - thanks to their digging capabilities.

Warfang's importance to Avalar was impossible to ignore upon reaching the entrance. It was then that the young dragons were truly able to take in the sheer size of the massive city walls that guarded the precious haven of the survivors of the war. Appreciating architecture is hard to do when you're fighting for the lives of an entire city, but now they stood frozen before the golden doors. The rays of the setting sun made the gold glimmer an orange hue, blending in with the atmosphere of the sun drowned land. Tangerine light poured over the world, washing down the great hill and into the forest below, where the animals that sheltered there could experience peace for the first time in decades. The Dragon City sat upon the hill like a crown upon a king. Despite its size, it did not impose; rather, all felt safe in its presence.

"By the Ancestors, they made it!" The voice of a mole called out, getting the attention of the dragons that stood before the city entrance.

On the walkways atop the walls on either side of the doors sat a mole each, likely there to keep an eye out for Spyro and Cynder or any threats that may have remained from the war. Their late reaction to the dragons' arrival suggested that they had been dozing off on the job. They couldn't be blamed, though; it certainly wasn't the most riveting task one could perform, and everyone was tired from the battles that would often last for days at a time, if not weeks.

"Maynard, open the doors!" The second watchmole yelled to his companion. Together, the moles pulled their respective levers, and the glorious city doors were ajar.

Spyro took the lead, cautiously stepping inside with Cynder right behind. Maynard closed his side of the door and joined them below to escort them through the city. As they walked, the damage caused by the Dark Master's army became more and more apparent. Buildings were burnt and boarded up, some even collapsed and taped off with yellow ribbon to suggest that civilians were not allowed inside. Within most of these areas lay construction equipment, resting for the night while their owners were at home having dinner. Although the city would not be fully restored any time soon, some places were already nearly as good as new; the moles had a history of working quickly and vigilantly on projects, especially mining and carpentering.

"Where are we headed?" Cynder spoke up, breaking the silence that encompassed the group.

"To the Temple. Try to keep your voice down when you speak miss; we don't want to alert the citizens of your arrival. There will be time for celebration later, but it's my guess that you'd prefer to have a quiet night." Maynard said in a hushed tone.

"I wasn't aware Warfang had a temple." Spyro murmured. It was more of an absent-minded comment, but he really was curious, and Maynard was more than happy to explain.

"That island temple your eggs were held in wasn't always there. After Malefor began to show signs of corruption, the Guardians built a new temple away from the mainland to continue his training. They wanted to keep Avalar safe from him, but they still had hope that he would travel the right path...

Anyway, as you likely already guessed, those underground ruins you traveled through were the original training grounds of the Dark Master. The new Temple of Warfang is the palace on the highest tier of the city. The Guardians are anxiously awaiting your return there, and I'm sure they'll have much more to teach you. I don't know everything about this old city, I'm just lucky to have been in the right places at the right times."

Spyro hung on to the mole's every word, fully intrigued. His desire to learn never left him, the world still full of secrets despite all that he'd seen. Cynder on the other hand couldn't focus on the conversation for very long. It wasn't that she wasn't interested - she was - but being in the city made her nervous, and so did hearing anything about Malefor. She wondered how the citizens would receive her. Would they be forgiving? Thankful, even, for her part in saving the world? Or would they be fearful still?

The dragoness found her thoughts drifting as she glanced around the city. The sun had already dipped below the horizon, the sky now painted a deep indigo. Billions of stars contrasted against the dark hue of the evening, though any light they provided was made null by the street lanterns. The amber glow they provided caused a strange feeling to bubble in Cynder's chest. For the first moment or so they had felt warm and inviting, but now they only filled her with a deep longing that she couldn't understand.

Cynder found herself itching to get away from the others. It was a feeling she got often, and one she had to suppress just as much. But in the dim and peaceful light of the city, would they notice if she phased into her shadow element and hurried ahead? She was a quiet flier with her wind element, and she considered both options for a moment before tossing the idea and turning her attention back to Maynard.

"We're about to enter the city plaza." He pointed out as they climbed the steps to the second tier of the city. "Here we have our Marketplace, restaurants, and a few inns, as well as other, more decorative attractions. As you make your way into the higher tiers, you'll notice that this one is the most open - this is because the plaza is busiest, though I figure you could have guessed it on your own."

It was a vast space indeed, Cynder could see that. The ground seemed different here too, stones of different hues laid in intricate patterns, though she couldn't make out what they pictured. Decorative trees, benches, and shop stands dotted as far as the eye could see. It was quite charming, actually. She could only imagine what it was like during the day, letting her mind stray from her worries to more pleasant thoughts of vibrant, revived city life. Although the suspicion that she would never truly fit in here nagged at the back of her mind, she couldn't help but smile softly to herself at the beauty of it. She couldn't wait to see the plaza in the afternoon light, and she hoped that she would be able to come again soon.

As they reached the stairs to the third tier of the city, Cynder found herself once more wanting to run ahead of the others. She was Surprised Maynard had even accompanied them this far. They were two whole levels up the massive city and there were three more to go - a long way for an old mole to travel on foot. Perhaps Cynder was just underestimating the old guard though - or, perhaps he didn't trust _her. _She bit the inside of her cheek and knit her brows together, exhaling hard out of her nose. Her companions took no notice, though, for Spyro was still focused on Maynard's stories.

"Did you hear that Cynder?" Spyro asked, nudging her with a wing.

Cynder flinched, looking over at him, and quickly lied. "Oh, uh, yeah... Pretty cool."

"What? He just said almost a third of the housing district was lost in the war. Were... you paying attention?" Spyro's head tilted to the side a bit.

Cynder's cheeks felt like burning coals, and she could only hope that Maynard hadn't heard her mistake. She gave Spyro an agitated look, snout turned down and wings loose at her sides. If only they could be left alone to make the rest of the journey to the temple. Turning her attention to the dimly lit street, she could barely make anything out in the distance, but she knew there would be a very long way to go. And, despite the mole's decent guidance, she had to admit it wasn't a good time for a tour. The sun had long been set, and they'd been walking since after they found the river. Spyro's tail brushed against hers in an attempt at consolation before he turned back to speak to Maynard.

"Maynard, um... If it wouldn't be too much trouble, would you mind if Cynder and I finished the walk to the temple alone? It's just been a very long day and..." Spyro trailed off awkwardly, shuffling his wings in discomfort.

"All well and understood, Sir, but the Guardians gave me a direct order to guide you to them - I-if they find out I didn't do my job-" Maynard stuttered, but was cut off.

"I promise you they'll be too preoccupied to reprimand you. If they ask, I can tell them that you left us by the temple doors." Spyro reassured him.

The watchmole clicked his claws together, glancing between the two dragons, then gave them a courteous nod and scurried off in the direction from which they had come, leaving Spyro and Cynder alone. Once he was out of hearing range, Cynder sighed loudly.

"I can imagine the Guardians are going to want to talk too, huh?" She raised her eyebrows, focusing her attention on the path in front of them as she began walking, at a somewhat faster pace.

"Yeah, probably. And there's a lot to discuss, too. Most importantly the news about Ignitus..." Spyro swallowed roughly, noticing the burn in his tired eyes. He didn't want to have to deliver this news. He didn't want to accept it as truth.

This was well understood by Cynder. Although she had never had anyone as close as Ignitus was to Spyro, she could understand their bond from the short time she spent at the Temple away from the mainland. His death had devasted them both, but Cynder found herself in awe at his sacrifice. _Could I do that? _she wondered. She would sacrifice herself for Spyro, after all, she had stayed with him in the core of the Earth. Deep down, far past her optimism, she knew they both could have died. But she wasn't close enough to anyone else to do that again, and that was what made Ignitus' sacrifice so strange and bewildering to her - he sacrificed himself for the whole world, people he didn't even know, would never _have_ known. And he knew the risk he was taking by guiding them across the Belt of Fire. Cynder wished she could have that much selflessness. Even her own decision to stay with Spyro was selfish; she didn't want to live without him.

All the houses they passed were completely dark. It was as if the whole of Warfang had been abandoned. With the war having just ended and everyone being hard at work during the day to get everything back to normal, it wasn't _surprising_ that the city would take to their beds early, just... unsettlingly quiet. However, disconcerting as it was, neither decided to speak for the rest of the walk through this tier of the city, for they didn't want to risk waking anyone.

One of the street lamps flickered, and Spyro tilted his head. At first, he suspected the flame-like light inside was going out, but as he watched it he realized it wasn't fire at all - it was electricity. He had never seen electricity captured like this for such a long period of time. It was completely foreign to him, the idea of using contained electricity rather than torchlight, but he supposed it was just one of the many advances the city had made. Honestly, it seemed more effective too. Though that one light was flickering, he noticed that all the others were static, and had lasted their entire walk through the city, like super-sized fireflies frozen in time in the amber tinted glass. The many styles of manipulation of the elements never ceased to amaze the purple dragon.

Cynder was more interested in the architecture, herself. One of the few things that stuck with her from her days of corruption - beside the ugly memories - was a fascination with architectural design. She had appreciated the rather foreboding castle she had called home before her corruption had been undone, and she still thought it was pretty cool, though she would never admit it to anyone but herself. The buildings of Warfang were, in every sense of the word, completely opposite to her black castle of spikes and spires, and from where the idea had even come to build it in that fashion escaped her. Here, everything was golden, quite literally. The light color of the sandstone the city was built from made the light of the street lamps reflect much easier, making everything easier to see. Unlike the almost indentical, large domed towers that made up most of the city, the houses were flat roofed, and had little flares of uniqueness to make them stand out from one another. Some had flower boxes in the windowsills, some were larger while some were rather tiny, and some had more space around them that was covered in grass and fenced in. Some of these grassy spaces had trees or gardens planted in them, making them feel personalized and cozy.

The next level of the city, and the final one before they would reach the Temple, was full of the towering structures they were used to seeing. Citadels that made them feel tiny filled the district that they could only imagine was used for warehouses, factories, banks, and other businesses. Why the industrial tier hadn't been above the marketplace, they couldn't decide - until they managed to catch signt of a few signs. Some were the workplaces of blacksmiths, some were printmakers, and one bulding in particular was labeled as _Seven Guardians Shipments. _Though the seven perplexed the pair, they decided not to question it right then and there. Instead, they both agreed that some of these buildings were better off closer to the Temple, and it made even better sense to imagine all buildings of the sort should be in the same district.

One especially distinct thing about this part of the city was the faint smell of smoke in the air. Cynder was the first to notice it, and she was quick to discover the source: a barely visible cloud of smoke rising from one of the buildings. Spyro shrugged, turning away from the sight to continue up the street, but the dragoness lingered. Something about it felt suspicious. Eventually, she followed with Spyro, brushing off her suspicions as simply a result of her wariness of the world. It was more than likely just a blacksmith working late hours to finish some project or another.

Finally, they made it to the steps to the final level of the city, where the Guardians would be expecting them. Cynder thought she felt her heart skip a beat with every other step, nerves completely on edge as they grew closer to seeing everyone again. She wondered who might greet them at the temple doors. Then, as if the universe had read her thoughts, a yellow glow shone in the distance. At first, she brushed it off as just another lamp, but when she heard Spyro's excited gasp, she knew who it was. Internally cursing the ancestors, she grunted and walked ahead. _I shouldn't have asked._

"Spyro! You're alive! Man, that's the second time I've had to say that this month. Are you done trying to get yourself killed yet?" Sparx teased, throwing his tiny yellow arms around Spyro's snout. His glow was a bit duller than usual, but his expression made up for it.

Spyro shook him off gently and grinned as his adoptive brother floated back. "Trying to get myself killed, huh? I must not be doing a very good job at that if I'm still here."

"Have you been waiting up all day and night for us?" Cynder asked, poking the little dragonfly with one battle-dulled claw.

"Wha-?" Sparx cut his own question off with a large yawn. "What makes you say that?"

"You just yawned. And, I don't know, you seem... Dimmer?" Cynder's usual snarkiness was nowhere to be found; she was honestly concerned.

"Cynder is right. Have you at least eaten anything?" Spyro asked.

"Pshhh, of course I have. I think... The ruins were a little low on butterflies, and so is the temple. Look, does it matter? If I wanted to be momma'd, I'd go back to the swamp, Purple Boy." Sparx flicked Spyro's nose and gave Cynder a roll of his eyes. "So, I see you brought your girlfriend back safely."

"She's not- shut up Sparx." Spyro laughed, catching a glimpse of Cynder's uncomfortable glare just before she turned away from the yellow bug.

"I'm just joshin' ya man! Let's get inside, before we draw too much attention. The guards like it nice and quiet around here. _Super serious, yenno?!_" He put emphasis on the last bit, raising his voice as he called over his shoulder to a guard who stood across the clearing. The guard was too far away for them to make out any details, but he didn't look happy.

The two dragons stalked off towards the Temple doors, and as they did, they took in the sight of of the surrounding area. The clearing was hexagonal, with the Northeast and Northwest sides forming the second and third highest of three large, domed towers; the section directly in front of them was the tallest. The bottom sections, which they had already passed, stopped a ways away from the wall in which the stairs created a gap. This way, a path was formed between the wall and the temple, leading to areas that couldn't be seen from anywhere they had stood. The left and right sides of the temple were open, columns holding up a roof above a stone path, past which a clearing could be seen from either side. However, in the dim light, it was hard to make out what these clearings contained. Perhaps the most notable features of the Temple courtyard were the ignited torch bowls that provided light - likely only contrasting the electric lamps in the rest of the city for tradition's sake - and a fairly sizeable mass of stone covered by a sheet, right in the center of the clearing.

"Sparx, what's that?" Spyro asked as they passed by it.

"Oh, that's just a fountain. It's undergoing some repairs right now or something." Sparx's nonchalance had an air of guardedness to it, but Spyro nudged the weirdness away with a shake of his wings.

At the main doors awaited two dragon guards, large and powerful looking. One looked the group over and nodded to the other, who shooed them a few paces back while they opened the doors for them to enter. Cynder watched the one on her right as she stepped inside. They gave each other an uncertain stare, and Cynder pulled her eyes back to the inside of the Temple. It was warm, with small electric lamps hung up along the walls, and the floors were covered with a soft red surface.

"What is this?" Cynder asked, pawing at the fuzzy floor.

"It's carpet, smarty-pants. Dragons use it to make the floors more comfortable and pretty." Sparx scoffed, flying ahead of them towards a pair of doors that were held just a crack ajar.

Cynder felt her cheeks heat up again. "I never had anything this soft where I was kept." She mumbled, poking at the carpet. She was going to have a _great_ time fitting in with society not knowing what hardly anything was.

"He probably asked the same thing when he got here. He's just cocky." Spyro reassured her before padding in Sparx's direction.

They poked their heads through the crack in the doors and glanced curiously around the large, circular room. Inside, Terrador and Cyril sat on a cushioned ring around a vision pool that had been installed in the floor, while Volteer seemed to be studying something over in the corner, with Sparx hovering beside him. Around the walls were shelves of books and scrolls, and on the wall directly across from the doors was a large fireplace with four colored tapestries hung up above it, each representing one of the four elements of the Guardians. On either side of the room was a long, curved table, upon which sat more books.

Spyro was the first to step inside the cozy looking room, cautiously approaching the pool. Cynder hesitated halfway inside the threshold, wings half unfolded and head lowered. The Guardians hardly seemed to notice the smaller dragon that approached them. Instead, their eyes studied the pool with such intensity that Spyro worried they might will the enchanted water to rise right out of its container and drench them all. He sat down, peering into the pool himself. He knew nothing about how to see the visions, or if he even could, but whatever the Guardians saw - or were trying to see - it must have been interesting. He sat still for a few moments, but screwed his face up in frustration when nothing revealed itself in the sparkling emerald well.

"It's alright, young one. We haven't had any luck ourselves, unfortunately." Terrador spoke softly, finally recognizing the purple dragon. "Cynder, please, come sit. It's alright."

Cynder blinked and approached, timorous, and sat beside Spyro. She couldn't deny that the Guardians made her nervous stil; she didn't know them nearly as well as Spyro. The soft click of claws against the floor made her attention flicker over to Volteer, who was making his way over to the pool to sit between his peers. They sat, bags beneath their crinkled eyes and shoulders just slightly sagging, as if they struggled to hold their regal posture. All three looked over the heroes, and though Volteer was the only one who managed to crack a smile, they all held a deep, shimmering admiration in their eyes.

"Spyro, Cynder." The named dragons sat up tall as Terrador addressed them. "We're relieved to see you here before us tonight. When you didn't return after the world was restored, we worried you might not return at all. The weight of all you've done will be evident in every corner of the world. Every living being - and even the souls of those who are not so lucky to have lived - have been touched by your heroism, whether they realize it or not. We're proud of you." Terrador blinked slowly, and the three Guardians bowed their heads in respect, and Spyro and Cynder bowed theirs in return.

"We did what we had to do, but... What do you mean, when we didn't return? We only defeated Malefor last night, right,?" Spyro's eyes were widened just slightly in surprise. He had wondered how long they'd been unconscious, but he didn't really think it had been more than a night.

"Young dragon..." Volteer piped up anxiously. "You've been gone for four days since the restoration. We honestly and truly suspected, _feared_ you hadn't made it out alive, and you're quite lucky to be at that. Adult dragons can sleep and go without sustenance for a good while, but dragons your age need food and drink frequently to survive. Although, I suppose it may be due to the conditioning your bodies have been through that you were able to go so long without proper-"

"Volteer, please." Cyril interrupted him. "Yes, I think we can all agree that you two are indeed _very _lucky. However, I believe it is time to address what we all have been hesitant to: that Ignitus did not have such luck."

Terrador sighed. "We were all hopeful, but deep down, I knew Ignitus had planned to sacrifice himself if anything should go wrong. He will be dearly missed..."

A solemn silence filled the room, only interrupted by the crackles of the warm fire, as if Ignitus was there in his element offering words of consolation that could not be translated to their language. The temperature had been moderate enough in the city that night, even at the higher elevation of the Temple, leaving it open to interpretation that the remaining Guardians had perhaps only lit the fire to tribute their fallen friend. Cynder shuffled on the cushion, the quiet growing perturbing. A question came to mind, and she was unable to stay quiet any longer.

"Is... Is that what you were looking for in the vision pool? A sign of whether we had all lived or not?" Cynder asked.

"Indeed! In fact, Spyro's little dragonfly companion hasn't left us alone about it since we came back to the Temple." Volteer said. "He's been utterly worried sick, we've hardly gotten him to sleep at all!"

"Hey, hey, now. No need to embarrass me about it, sheesh." Sparx zipped over at the mention of himself, his hands held up defensively. "What matters now is that they made it."

"Yes, Sparx. And that they get some well earned rest." Terrador agreed, looking at Sparx before turning a humorously stern eye to Spyro and Cynder.

"But wait." Spyro protested. "What happens now that Ignitus is gone? Surely you'll need a new Fire Guardian." The thought of replacing Ignitus so soon stung, but they needed four Guardians. Who else would train the young fire dragons?

"And a blundering idiot of one at that." grunted Cyril, exhaling a puff of icy air from his snout. Spyro was taken aback.

"Forgive our dearest Ice Guardian, Spyro. Ignitus' apprentice is a bit of a _frostbite _in the neck for Cyril sometimes, hahah!" Volteer laughed at his own pun; none of the others joined in. Especially not Spyro, who's brows were raised up and his mouth slightly ajar.

"Ignitus had an _apprentice?_" This was certainly news to him. His voice then wavered, realizing what that meant: Ignitus had been keeping secrets from him. "Why didn't he tell me?"

"Oh, young dragon, it wasn't anything personal." said Volteer softly, lowering his head to meet the young dragon's eyes, a comforting sparkle in his own. "When you didn't return from the Mountain of Malefor three years ago, we had all presumed you dead. We expected we ourselves would not make it out alive, but very few dragons would offer up their children - some the only one they had - to train under us in such grave times..

But there was indeed one dragon, one who was very close to Ignitus. His General, Pyra, who would have become the next Guardian of Fire himself, said to his friend, _'__Should I not survive this war, take my two eggs, and take in the first to hatch as your apprentice.' _Pyra was lost only weeks later, and so it became that his first hatched egg would be our next fire Guardian." Volteer finished his story, and the reactions were mixed. While Spyro and Cynder listened, awestruck, and Terrador watched him with an expression of deep respect, but Cyril merely rolled his eyes - twice. Once when the story was finished, and once more (this time joined by a huff from Terrador) when Volteer continued talking. "If Ignitus never mentioned it to you, it was simply because he had no chance to amidst the short and chaotic time you had together since you returned to fight for Warfang days ago."

"So, this new apprentice. Who are they? And why didn't they offer us any help during the battle here in the city - or at all?" Spyro asked with uncertainty. If not all of the Guardians approved of him, and if he hadn't even offered any help, how could he be sure that Ignitus' rank was in good paws? It was Terrador that answered him this time, his voice more deep and serious - more himself than he had been since they arrived.

"Surely we couldn't ask any more children to fight in the war than we already had. As much respect as I have for the two of you for the strength and courage you've shown, we must acknowledge the difference between what we _must _do, and what we have the option to do. The apprentice was helping to guard and keep calm the other citizens who were hidden away during the attempted invasion of the city." This reply only left Spyro with more questions, but before he could ask any of them, Terrador spoke again. "As for who exactly he is, you'll meet him soon enough. But right now, you need to rest. That's not a request."

The young dragons nodded, knowing better than to argue any more with the massive Guardian's wishes. Spyro got to his feet and stretched, popping his wing joints and yawning. Cynder couldn't help but laugh at just how funny he looked, but karma struck her as she suddenly found his yawn contagious. Standing slowly, she stretched her legs and tail, then looked up at the Guardians, who were starting to go back to their own business. Volteer had already returned to his corner and was mumbling rapidly under his breath.

"We have a lot to do tonight." Terrador explained. "I have to make sure our training rooms are in proper condition, Volteer is going over the checklist for city repairs, and Cyril has been patching up the Temple's tapestries while he waits for the list of students that will begin their studies in the coming weeks."

"Weaving is a form of _art. _I've already finished mending those four up there." Cyril said proudly, holding his head high in the direction of the tapestries above the fireplace. The sad inflection of his voice was clear when he continued, "I completed Ignitus' first."

"And he would be thrilled to see it in such good condition." Terrador assured the Ice Guardian before turning back to Spyro and Cynder. "Since I need to be on my way to the training wing, I'll escort you two up to the room that I've arranged for you, where you are free to stay until you find someplace more to your liking."

The young pair nodded, saying their goodnights to Volteer and Cyril, and followed Terrador out of the room, where he took a turn to the left and approached the wall beside the door. Directly to his right was a wall light, which he gripped in his claws, turned clockwise, and pushed into the wall until a _click_ could be heard. The stony wall sunk slowly into the floor with a great rumble, revealing a staircase that spiraled up around the outer walls of the room they had just come from. The Earth Guardian led the way once more, up the long, winding stairs. It reminded them of the crystal staircase they had climbed to escape the great caldera early that morning.

Directly behind and at ceiling level to the room with the vision pool, and to the right of the group, a landing led to another, rather important looking set of double doors. Past the landing, the stairs continued. As they ascended, they passed multiple single doors on the left that they could only assume led to rooms similar to the one Terrador was taking them to. On the walls to their right were rectangular windows, where in the light of the lamps between them, the dragons could only see their reflections.

After what felt like ages for the tired dragons, they reached their destination. Terrador opened the door for them, holding it open to allow them inside, and followed them in. It was a decently sized room, only a bit smaller than the first room to account for the staircase that circled it, and with a lower ceiling. Covering most of the floor was a circular rug, and across the room was an oval shaped canopy bed large enough for one adult dragon to sprawl out, with a nightstand on either side. To the far right was a dresser, curved to fit against the wall, and upon it sat three bowls, one of fresh fruits, and the other two appearing empty from where they stood. On the opposite side of the room was a deep cut into the wall about a foot off the floor, with a large window imbedded into it. Beneath the window was a square cushion where one could sit and enjoy the view.

"There's fresh fruit and cold water if you get hungry or thirsty, and the bed is made for an adult dragon, so it's big enough for four your size to curl up. Try to get some sleep, and come see us in the morning when you wake. We'll be here if you need anything between now and then. If we aren't in the room, ask a guard for help or to show you to one of our bedchambers. Goodnight." Terrador nodded to the two and turned, strolling out of the room and shutting the door behind him.

Sleep was the last thing on their minds now that they had a room to explore and time to themselves. They exchanged knowing looks and made their way to the dresser with the bowls. As Terrador had promised, there was water in the bowls on either side of the fruit bowl. They gulped down the water thirstily, then crunched down a large apple each. When they were satisfied, they began searching the room for anything interesting that they had yet to notice, but the room was pretty empty. Met with disappointment, Spyro made his way to the bed. Cynder watched him hesitantly.

"What's wrong? The bed is comfortable, come sit." Spyro tapped his tail on the bed invitingly.

"Nothing is wrong. I'm just not tired yet." Cynder said, rather unconvincingly.

She looked down at the rug that still felt weird under her paws. Nothing about Warfang felt familiar to her. The places she had lived and slept were cold and hard and empty. She never had a soft, plush bed with lavish cushions, or 'carpet', or a warm, crackling fire to replace the silence at night. Here, in this inviting room, she felt strange. It was like she wasn't supposed to be here, accepting hospitality from the Guardians. _The Guardians I attempted to murder. _She shook her head and dragged a silver claw around the rug, drawing indistinct shapes.

"It's a lot to get used to, I know. But it's nice once you do." Spyro said, getting Cynder's attention once more.

Knowing she wouldn't win with him, she stood and approached the bed. Awkwardly, she climbed up, and immediately flattened herself to it when the cushiony surface sunk beneath her weight. Once the initial shock of the strange feeling had subsided, she inched away from the edge and curled up, laying her chin on a pillow. A lazy smile spread across her face. It really was comfortable, and only then did she realize how exhausted she was, even if she had slept for four days.

Just as Cynder was on the edge of drifting off, her trained ears were alerted by a tiny knock on the door. A tiny, _dragonfly __sized _knock. Her head shot up off the pillow and in the direction of the door. Spyro stood, mumbling an "I'll get it." _Good, _thought Cynder. _I certainly wasn't going to._

"Sorry I'm late to the party. Volteer had me juggling scrolls for him." Sparx said as he entered the room and promptly sat right on Cynder's pillow, earning a sharp glare from the dragoness. "Ohh, I'm sorry, is this seat taken?"

_"Yes." _Cynder growled. She used her wind breath to knock him off, then promptly set her head back down. "It is."

"Alright, alright, _sheesh. _I was just playin'!" Sparx flew over to the window seat and looked out while Spyro inspected a wall lamp by the door.

"Sparx, how do you put these out?" Spyro asked, tilting his head.

"You don't _put them out__, _genius. You turn them off. They're electric. There should be a little switch at the bottom." Sparx answered, not turning away from the window. "Wonder what all that smoke is about down in the industrial district. Certainly not a fire, someone would have noticed by now. And it always stops by morning."

"I was wondering about that too, but Spyro brushed it off." Cynder said, her interest piqued by the topic of the smoke.

"Hmmm, methinks there's something strange afoot here." Sparx tapped a finger on his chin.

"Nonsense. Look, we'll go there in the morning and meet the person that owns the place, and they can tell us what all the smoke is about." Spyro huffed, growing frustrated with his friends' skepticism - and the strange lamp. Finally, he managed to flip the switch off with his claw, and the room went a bit dimmer. Then, he started on the next one, which was taking just as long.

"Having trouble?" Sparx asked, now floating beside him.

"What wise guy invented these things? They're impossible!" Spyro stamped his paw on the ground.

"Take it easy. And don't let Volteer hear you say that, because _he _invented them." Sparx used his hand to push the switch into an off position and grinned. "There. it's easier when you have opposable thumbs. Or, when you just use something other than just your claw. You two are clueless."

"Hey! You didn't know what any of this stuff was either before you came here. Don't be so arrogant." Cynder exclaimed. "Now, turn the rest of the lights off - yourself included - so we can all get some sleep."

"Fiiiiine." Sparx gave in. He had to admit, he missed teasing them, but maybe he was being a bit hypocritical. He flitted about, turning the rest of the lights in the room off before setting himself back on the window cushion. "And, by the way, I can't just 'stop glowing'. Doesn't work like that " Cynder simply ignored him, and he didn't pay it any mind.

Spyro climbed back into bed and nestled himself into the cushions. He and Sparx were asleep within moments. Cynder, however, was having trouble drifting off since the interruption of Sparx's arrival. Thoughts ran through her head, some good, some bad, but the one thing that soothed her was the constant relief that they were all finally safe. A relief that would eventually carry her into her very first truly peaceful night of sleep.

* * *

**Alright! That's Chapter 2. I'm sorry it took so long to get this out there. I had started this chapter very shortly after the first was published, but then I hit a pretty big motivation block. But, here we are, back to business. Hopefully things will start to pick up the pace in the next few chapters, but I'm trying not to rush too much.** **Anyway****, please, do leave a review! I'm open to constructive criticism, so if you have any tips on how to better future chapters, let me know! And feel free to share your thoughts on what you think will happen next, your feelings on the story in general, or anything else that comes to mind. I love to hear from people.** **Until**** next time!**


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